TMWolf: Update time! I meant to do this other christmas break, but I definitely got distracted haha. It's here, though, and y'all get to enjoy some great fluff! :)

Thanks to everyone sticking with me on this sequel and leaving all your wonderful reviews *all the hearts* It means a lot, and I hope you'll continue to let me know your thoughts on everything X)

This chapter is from Mumford & Sons - Learn Me Right (ft. Birdy) [It's from Brave!]

Act III

Nemesis

21 – Learn Me Right

July 1, 1501

Roma, Italy

Catherine woke up in her shared bed and didn't recall getting there. The room was still a bit dark, though it was because of the curtains, which had been pulled closed. Only a few slivers of the sunlight could reach through, and by the brightness she guessed it was mid-morning. She sighed softly as she rubbed her face, only to pause.

It was quiet.

She couldn't recall a morning when it had been. Yet, there was. The silence—the sweet, sweet silence. It engulfed her, filling every cell in her body. It gave her such a rush of relief she didn't know she was possible. Her mind was so clear. The weight that had been there but a day before was suddenly gone, and she almost didn't know how to fathom it. She'd been so consumed by it since her fall into that dark pit it had become all she knew. It had been all she knew and kept her going. It had let her survive the catacombs and her enemies and her own despair. But now it was gone, and she was exposed. Weak, even.

It left her vulnerable to the onslaught of memories crashing down upon her as they had the previous night, drowning her in the guilt again. Her eyes stung, and she let out a soft, stifled cry. God—what had she done? How had she let herself do all those things? Or, no—she knew how. She knew why. She'd chosen to do it. She'd been happy to do it. She had gladly welcomed the fire and rage because it had been all there was, and now? Now she suffered for it, at last.

Catherine pushed herself up and hated how the motion sapped the energy from her. She felt so tired, and might have even considered sleeping again, but there was no time. They had been victorious last night. They had rescued their comrades and her child and—and Federico! Oh, God, the young man was alive! It was a miracle, one none had expected. Yet, had the price been too high? Had they lost any? What of their Brothers and Sisters? What of her recruits? Had she brought harm to them again because of her prideful, blinded whims? And what of Giovanni, who'd led the Mercenaries there? Had he survived? Had Claudia regained one son only to lose another?

The redhead breathed in deep, closing her eyes to try and steel her mind. It was strangely easier to do, and she had to laugh at the notion. It was only so easy because the whispers were gone; because the wolf mask was—still there.

Her blood ran cold as her eyes settled upon the white fur, stained black with the dried blood. It was still on the mantle, ever quiet, and yet just barely—she heard them. The whispers. The howls. They were calling her back.

The door opening made Catherine jump, and she turned sharply, eyes wide at first, though they relaxed when she saw not danger of any kind, but her husband.

Her Ezio.

He looked upon her, his expression full of worry and fear, but also hope and relief. She didn't blame him. Thinking back on everything—of the madness, for that was what it was—she could barely believe he was even there in the doorway, holding a plate of food and a cup of most likely wine or perhaps milk. She didn't understand how he had endured it when she had fallen so far, but her heart swelled at the sight of him. The smile she gave him was gentle, and a strange warmth filled her when she saw how his eyes lit up with joy. He was by her in the next moment, setting the plate down on the bed beside her so that he could reach up to cup her face. She leaned into it, closing her eyes to take in the feel of his hand. It had been there so many times before, but this time was different. The warmth there poured into her, giving her strength she thought she no longer had.

"Hey," she spoke softly, chuckling even.

His eyes watered—just a little, "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"I…" she began, but then looked down, biting her lip. "I feel… better. I think. Tired mostly, really. I… wait—where's Mario? Where our boy?"

"It's alright, he's fine—he's with Diana and Mother. They've both been dying to meet him," Ezio chuckled as he pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm glad you're better."

"Me, too. I… I feel… I don't know. It's… strange. So very strange. When I was able to hold him—when I had Mario back it… everything… it's… quiet. I don't know. I don't really understand how, but… nothing else worked, but when I had him back I... I just…"

"Shh… shh, don't fret over it. What matters is that you're feeling better and more yourself," he spoke softly, stroking her hair back behind her ear. Yes. More herself. That was how she felt. That was exactly it, and how peculiar a thing that was to realize. Ezio chuckled as he brought the food to her lap. "Here, eat. It will help."

"It looks good. And I am starving… but tell me about what happened last night—after we got back. I don't remember much. Is Federico okay? How the hell did you even find him? Where was he all this time? I thought he'd died, and—," she started, but was silenced by a finger against her lips and a wry smile on her husband's lips.

"Eat. And I'll explain everything," he grinned, and she relented. Once she took a bite of the ham and eggs, he went on, "I didn't see him when I first got there, but when I had the key, he spoke up. He didn't recognize me at first—he was that exhausted—but I found him. Although, I almost didn't think it was with all the dirt and how thin he'd become… But thankfully the key worked on his cell, too, and I got him out. He's resting now, though. God knows he needs it. They… The Borgia… they beat him badly.

He smiled sadly, "He's was—is a strong boy, though. He'll have quite a few new scars, and his shoulder and knee may never be quite the same, but he'll live. Seems he escaped the assault for the most part at Monteriggioni, but when he went back to find his father and Uncle Mario, he was attacked and taken captive. Turns out the Borgia didn't end up killing everyone, and they didn't recognize him at first. He thinks one of the men ratted him out after being tortured, and they tried to get information from him or something. They brought him back to the Castel about a month ago as a prisoner—perhaps to use against us at some point since they knew we were here, but now… Now he's safe. Our son is safe. Even Caterina is safe. At most she'll limp for a day or two."

"I'm relieved… God… Claudia… she'll be so happy. Does she know yet? Does Giovanni know?"

He shook his head, "No, not yet. He begged me not to go get her after I'd put you to bed. I… I think he's not ready. Or, rather, he doesn't want her to see him this way. I don't blame him. He looks as bad as he feels. But Giovanni knows. He came in after the fight on the bridge settled, and they found each other. I thought they'd never let go for a moment there, but Giovanni had to return to the Barracks to report to Bartolomeo."

"He should talk to Claudia soon… she needs to know. It's… losing a child—even thinking you have…" Catherine spoke softly, gaze trailing off. She mentally shook her stupor away and returned her gaze to her husband. "What of our Assassins? Are they—?"

"They're fine. No one was hurt, at least not badly. Scrapes and cuts at most. Even Piero will be recovered soon enough. I've told them to lay low for now, so some of them have dispersed out, to keep eyes off us. It's chaotic out in the city right now—the battle caused a great deal of unrest in the Borgia. They're moving through the streets, trying to find the so called 'Assassins' who started a revolution. Our recruits made quite the debut."

"I guess the good things rubbed off on them then. Good. I'm glad. What of the people? Are they… with us?"
"As far as I can tell," Ezio shrugged. "It's only been hours since the battle, which happened at night, so things are still trying to settle down. I think most will be on our side, though. There might be more trouble with the Borgia, however.

He chuckled as he took her chin gently between her bites, "But you need to focus on you. Although, I admit… I'm glad to see you like this. You're… focused."

"I—," Catherine began, pausing as the guilt came back, quick and sharp. She sighed softly, "I… was not myself. Was I?"

He smiled, but it was forced, "No, you weren't…. but you are now. I can see it. Those are the beautiful eyes I know."

"You're such a flirt," she chuckled. Ezio laughed as he kissed her cheek.

"I only speak the truth."

"Then you're just too good to me," she snickered, keeping her head against his. She nudged her food off her lap, "Can I… Can I see them? Mario? And Diana?"

"Of course—you're their mother. Hang on, I'll get them," he grinned as he squeezed her hand gently before slipping away. She missed his presence at once, feeling oddly exposed. It was too quiet now. It made it to easy for the whispers to start again; too easy for the fangs to draw close. She suddenly regretted having him leave. Breathing became difficult, her chest heavy as she clutched at the sheets. Her heart beat a little faster, stirred by her sudden anxiety—her growing fear.

She dared a glance at the wolf mask, but then looked away just as fast. She swore the eyes had gleamed in her direction, and that frightened her. To think, she'd once accepted it so willingly? But now? Now it scared it—straight to the core.

She jumped again when the door moved, but relaxed and let joy overcome her at the sight of her daughter, holding her father's hand, and the bundle that was their child in his other arm. Diana watched her mother carefully for a moment—it was a heavy blow all the same, though, as Catherine recalled what Ezio had told her not long ago—and then gasped with delight. She quickly bounded over, leaping into the bed, and wrapped her arms around Catherine's neck. The redhead embraced her right on back, burying her head into her daughter's neck. She smelled of cinnamon and she was warm like the sun. Her laughter drowned out anything else, and Catherine would never have let go if not for Ezio lounging beside her, Mario held out. Diana wiggled to the side, allowing the redhead to bring the boy to her. He stirred some, making a groaning-like sound. His eyes opened a little, revealing bright eyes, the irises hazel like his mother's. He had his father's hair for sure, though, and his darker skin tone.

Her precious Mario.

Her beautiful Diana.

Her loving Ezio.

Her family.

She had it back. Some were missing, yes, but she'd reclaimed her son and her nephew. It was still broken in places, but it was mending—slowly, but surely. This was what she'd been missing; what she'd needed. Yes; with this she felt complete and whole and it filled her with warmth and a happiness she thought she'd never have again.

The tears came without warning, but she didn't stop them. Her sobs wrenched free from her throat, and like before, there were arms to hold her tight. Mario, not understanding, began to cry as well for the noise, and there was little to quell mother and son's tears for some time, but it was alright. Things would be better now. Catherine was certain of it.

-O-

"Ah, Catherine, my dear, finally come to join us at last, mm?" Maria inquired as the redheaded mother descended the stairs, Mario cradled in her arm. Beside her, Ezio carried Diana against his shoulder, bottom nestled on his elbow. She had her cheek pressed foolishly against his head, pushing his bangs at an odd angle. Mario was up to his own antics, having found Catherine's longer bangs quite interesting, his small fingers grabbing furiously for them.

The redhead chuckled, "Yes. I think I've slept long enough."

Maria regarded her for a moment from her chair and smiled, "You look good. You slept well then. I am glad. Your son missed you terribly, though. He was a fussy boy when I held him, but with you he is much better. He knows his mother."

"I—ah, yes, I suppose he does," the redhead chuckled, cheeks reddening from her wide smile as she gave Mario her finger, which he focused on instead of her hair. He giggled with delight, kicking his limbs with excitement. Her smile softened some as she spoke, "I… I was worried. I think. That he wouldn't remember me. I only had him for a few days…"

"Children always know, and now that you are reunited, you never need part again. Only, do let his Grandmother tend to him every now and then. My only other grandson is much to old for that," Maria chuckled, glancing up to them, though had to a raise a brow when she saw their expressions. Her mind worked for a moment, focusing mostly on her son, who's face had the definition of guilt painted on it. "What? What is it? What are you hiding? Ezio? Son?"

"He… won't mind Maria knowing… would he?" Catherine mumbled, looking to her husband, who groaned slightly as he rubbed his face.

"She already knows something is up… alright. Mother come with me. There is something we must show you," Ezio rumbled, hand moving to the back of his neck. It was an honest blunder, but she was bound to find out before Claudia, being that she was here. Still, he didn't like to disappoint his nephew so soon. There was nothing to be done for it, though, and so the Assassin led their matriarch through the hallways to a back room while Catherine remained back with their children. Federico had been too exhausted to climb the stairs—he'd practically passed out onto the bed and Giovanni had to set him in proper place—so the room served as a good alternative. Ezio opened the door carefully, letting light into the darkened room. Federico was still asleep and looked as bad as he'd been.

Maria gasped, hands flying to her lips, and she made to fly to his side, but Ezio grasped her arm gently, shaking his head. She looked with confusion, eyes watering out of the joy blossoming in her breast, but he only ushered her back out. He shut the door quietly, and then took his mother's hands with a smile.

"Yes. Federico is alive. I know, I know—we all thought he was gone, too. We found him in the Castel's dungeons. He is… hurt. Badly. But he will live and be strong again," he explained as tears pooled from Maria's eyes. He wiped them away as gently as he could, but it did not abate them.

"Oh, praise God! We have another back! We did not lose Federico—not this time," she croaked as Ezio pulled her into his chest, holding his mother tight. She sobbed into his chest for a little while before composing herself, wiping away the tears, and straightening her dress so she was the picture of elegance and nobility—ever fitting of the title of Matriarch of the Auditore. Her composure was refined when she looked upon them once more. "Claudia does not know."

"She doesn't. Federico begged us not to tell her. Not yet. He… didn't want to be seen like this."

"Ah. He is like his grandfather—and his Uncle. He is an Auditore. Oh, if only Ottavio were here, too! And Mario!" she rasped, tears threatening to strike again. Ezio smiled gently, taking her hands in his.

"I know, Mother. I know. I miss them, too… but we have at least a bit of our family back, and we won't lose it again. I promise."

"Good. You keep your promises. You always have. You are a good boy, my son. A very good boy," Maria nodded, and finally managed to quell her tears, even if they were of joy. She pulled her hand free to cup his cheek. "You brought Catherine back, too… didn't you?"

"I…I think so. I hope so. She's… more like herself. I don't know if it's for certain, but… the way she smiled… The light in her eyes…," he spoke softly, on the verge of a sob.

"Yes, I saw it, too. It is there. You have done well, Ezio. Was it your boy?"

He nodded, "Yes, I think so. She changed once she had him. I just… I hope that's enough. I fear it's not and that I'll lose her again and—."

Maria's hand pressed to his lips, "Hush. Do not think of such things. Only think of what you see in front of you. Hold fast to it now, and do not let go. Do not let her falter again. Keep your family whole, as I could not do. Be better than your father and I, Ezio. Do not let the Borgia take from us again."

"I won't, Mother. I promise."

"Good. That is my boy," the older woman smiled, and her tears rolled fresh again.

-O-

"Grandma was crying, but she looked happy, too," Diana hummed, sitting in her father's lap. He was situated on the couch set in the reading room, empty of everyone but the little family. Catherine sat beside him, leaning slightly against his side, while she held Mario in his arms, whom slept soundly. Ezio chuckled as he leaned forward some to look into the redheaded child's eyes.

"She was. They were tears of joy. She was happy to see you, your brother, and your cousin. He's been gone for a long time—as long as your brother," he replied, and the young girl shifted to look at the baby, wrapped snugly in a blanket. He'd been fed not long ago, and so snoozed off his full belly. Diana peered closer, admiring the round, pale cheeks.

"When did you have him, Mama? Are you sure he is my brother? He doesn't look like me," she mused, frowning slightly.

Catherine laughed as she brushed a dark lock of the baby's hair, "He's definitely your brother. He came from me, I promise… it was… when I was away. He was taken from me not long after he was born, though, so I haven't seen him much, either, but I could never forget his face. He looks like his father, don't you see?"

"Hmm… I guess… He does have Papa's hair. But his eyes are more like yours, Mama."

"That's how you know he came from both of us… just like you have my hair and your Papa's eyes, my love," the redheaded woman chuckled, earning a grin from her daughter.

"So, you got rid of the bad men then? Papa said you would when you went to get him."

Ezio shared a glance with his wife as he answered with a soft sigh, "No… we didn't get them—not yet. The bad men were not there, so we rescued your brother and cousin and Lady Caterina. You remember her, no? But don't worry. We're going to keep fighting the bad men until Roma is free of them."

"You say that all the time," Diana huffed.

"It's… not easy sometimes, my little one," Catherine smiled sadly. "Sometimes… things become difficult. Our enemy is very powerful and very strong and bigger than us. But we are getting stronger and we are bringing them to heel, but the fight will be a very long one, I think."

"Oh… will I get to fight one day?"

"Not if I can help it," Ezio grinned, suddenly lifting the girl up to hold her in the air. She giggled as she kicked her legs playfully.

"But, Papa! I want to fight, too! Mama, you promised to teach me one day!" she huffed, folding her arms even as she was held up.

"Hmmm… I did, didn't I?" the redhead mused, grinning at her husband, whom raised a brow. "Well, perhaps we could start lessons—maybe on your next birthday."

"But—that's forever from noooooow! I bet you'd let my brother fight at my age!" she grumbled, pouting now and puffing out her cheeks.

"Hmmmm we just might have to give into her demands with that," Catherine smirked, earning a look from Ezio.

"Do we have to?"

"She's going to make you. Somehow."

"Alright, alright. Next birthday we can see about it," Ezio grumbled, bringing Diana back down to his lap. She giggled with delight, bouncing on his leg, though all paused as a knock came at the entryway. It was an older woman, dressed in plain noble robes—their daughter's tutor. The young girl groaned dramatically, falling back against her father. He laughed as he nudged her from his lap. "Now, now. Not even a reunion can delay your studies. And don't worry; we'll be here when you're done."

"Ugh," the redheaded child groaned, doing everything in her power to delay going. The tutor raised a brow, so Diana looked to her mother, whom just gestured with her head to the older woman. Defeated, the young girl trudged to her tutor, whom took her hand and led her from the room, though not before their daughter could wave emphatically.

"So," Ezio began, now that they were alone once more, and looked to the child, "how is he doing?"

"Good. Surprisingly, good. I admit I was… well, worried," she chuckled, looking to her lover, and found he looked surprised. She faltered some, cheeks warming, "It's just… I only held him for a few days before they took him, and… then… the way I was…"

"You're his mother. You'd never forget how to care for your child, even if you missed the first bit of it."

"I suppose so. I just… everything's different then how it was with Diana. I got to hold her the whole time. She drank from my breast and she was with me so long… this… it feels… I don't know. It's right, but not right?" she replied, curling the child closer. She shut her eyes as if in pain. She opened them when his hand cupped her cheek, turning her face towards him. His eyes told her he was searching for something, or perhaps checking for it. She had an idea of what, and it made her chest ache. "Worried I'm going to go back—to what I was?"

"I—no, I—," he balked, looking away quickly.

She laughed lightly, but sadly, too, and leaned her head on his shoulder, "Me, too. I'm… I feel better. I think. I feel different. More like before, and yet… I worry. I think back on everything; on all that's happened since Monteriggioni, and I just… I don't know. I'm terrified, and yet… a part of me justifies it. I hate what I became, but I don't regret it, either—not fully. Some part of me is abhorred, but at the same time… I enjoyed killing them. I enjoyed getting back at them any way I could because it was all I could do. But now? I have you and Diana. I have Mario again. I took back what they stole from me, and I know I still hate them. I want nothing more than to make Cesare suffer for what he did… but I'm afraid of what I could do. I'm afraid I'll go back. I'm afraid I'm not even away from what I was. Ezio, the things I did—"

"Shh, shhh, Catherine," Ezio spoke softly, but quickly, and pressed his brow to hers. "The fact you're speaking to me like this—that you regret at all and realize it… that's proof enough you've come from that, and I swear to you: I won't let you fall again. I swear my life on it."

Catherine stared into his eyes a long time before managed a weak smile, "I hope you're right. I think so long as we have our son… it might be. Having him just… things felt right again. I can't even explain it, but just having him here… in my arms… I feel… better. Our family being whole. Yet, I feel so guilty, too. I missed so much of his life so far, and you're just now meeting him. You should have been with me. I should have weaned him. We should have been home."

"We should have been a lot of things, my love. We should be retired, traveling the world… but I made a mistake, and it cost us almost everything. This was my fault, and if I wasn't there, it was by my own doing. I should have killed Rodrigo, but I showed mercy and it led to this… but no more. No more mercy for the Borgia."

"Except Lucrezia?" the redhead mused, though she wore a smirk. She still hated the woman, of that she was certain. But if she was to kill her, it would be more honorable. She couldn't make it about vengeance, and if she couldn't be rid of it?

Then perhaps she shouldn't be an Assassin.

Ezio lip quirked upward just briefly, "She's no killer—not like her brother. She's a tool, used by them, although she profits… but I think you punished her as needed, and I suspect her blood will be the undoing of her, not our Blades. Many of the Borgia's allies will find that their fate, I believe. But Cesare will die by my hand. He will pay for his crimes against us and Roma and all the innocent who come under his wrath."

"Do you think it's alright I hope that bastard burns with he dies? That he suffers until his last breath? For all the clarity I have, I still despise that man. I don't think I can ever not hate him," the redhead spoke ruefully, shifting her child in her arms. He made a whining sound but didn't fully wake.

"Don't worry—I can't either," the Auditore chuckled before looking to the boy. He glanced at his wife, gesturing, and she held him out to him. He took Mario into his arms, smiling warmly at the sight of him. He had the look of an Auditore, and though he was a little small, he would become strong. His blood would make him so, and now he could make up for lost time as a father. "I wish you had come into this world under different circumstances, my son… but you are safe now, and your mother and I will protect you always. You'll grow up without worry, and you'll have your big sister to protect you, too. And your cousins, and aunt, and grandmother. And all the Assassins. You will have so many people who love you and protect you, and you will become a strong, honorable young man."

"Yes, yes he will," Catherine smiled, eyes bright. Ezio smiled back and, cradling the child in one arm, reached over to place his other hand behind the redhead's neck to pull her close and kiss her deeply. He hoped it let her know all he felt; all his hopes and love and relief and joy at seeing her so changed. He liked to think she did in the way her smile became soft and tender, reminding him of the younger days—back before all the pain.

"I love you, Catherine. With all my heart."

"I love you, too, Ezio… and I won't fall again. I promise."

"Ah—," a voice—a tired one—spoke up, causing both Assassins to startle. They looked up to find Federico, leaning against the doorway. He had bandages peeping through his clothes, and one eye was swollen shut. He managed a chuckle, "Sorry, was I interrupting?"

"What are you doing up? You should be in bed," Ezio frowned, returning Mario to his mother as he nearly jumped up to get to his nephew.

Federico snickered, "I was hungry, and my brother was supposed to be my page until I healed, but he's bailed. As usual. You don't happen to have Annetta here to make food, do you?"

"Sorry, my boy, but, no. Annetta went back to her sister in Firenze. But the cook here can make a mean soup. But, first, back to your room, 'Rico. You're in no condition to be up and about."

"I'll have you know I walked all the way here to my prison when I looked this bad. I can manage to a kitchen," the young man smirked, although his body was shaking with the effort. He looked to Catherine as she approached, then down to the baby. "Ah, so here's our Commander's namesake, eh? He's missing the scar, though."

"Yes, well, he won't have one if I can help it," Catherine smirked and gently reached out to touch his shoulder. "It's good to see you again."

"Same, Auntie. Luckily, I'm not a ghost," the young man winked, earning a few chuckles. He sighed a moment later, shoulders slumping, "Bah, you're right, Uncle. I need to sleep more. Smack Giovanni for me, will you? Bastard didn't have my permission to leave."

"Will do, now come on then, back to bed. Oh, your grandmother came to visit. You'll need to make sure to give her a good hug when she comes again," Ezio mused as all three ventured out from the study.

The young man winced, "Mother doesn't know still, right? I… she'll worry so much if she sees me like this. I want to look at least a little decent when she knows I'm alive."

"Don't worry, your grandmother can keep a secret. Hell, I didn't know about your grandfather's work until I met Uncle Mario."

"Wow."

"I knew before him," Catherine grinned impishly, to which Ezio pouted and Federico laughed.

"Figures. Oh, so I like chicken soup best, if you can. I'm starving, so maybe some bread and—," the young man went on, but paused as the entrance to the hideout slammed closed. All three heads turned as the baby stirred, whining a little as he did so. All three Auditore's froze as they spotted their visitor.

It was Claudia.

She was panting, hard. Sweat had appeared on her brow and both her dress and hair were disheveled as if she'd been sprinting as hard as she could. She probably had. Whatever the case, she gasped—loudly—at the sight of her son, and the tears immediately pooled in her eyes. Her hands flew to her mouth as she let out a sob, shoulders shaking. Federico smiled, albeit weakly and perhaps a bit regretfully, but he stepped forward with a sheepish grin.

"Hey, Mother. I'm, ah… I'm back."

Whatever held Claudia where she was broke, and the mother sprinted to her son, embracing him around the neck. He was too weak to stay steady, and so went to his knees, bringing her with him. Her face buried into his neck and she broke into loud sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. Federico didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pressing his head into her hair. For all his worth, he, too, began to sob, both overcome by the sheer joy and relief.

Ezio placed a hand at Catherine's back and motioned with his head towards the kitchen. She nodded, understanding his meaning, and they headed that way, giving the two the privacy they needed. All the while they smiled, fingers entwining as they walked, and content with the feeling that perhaps, at long last, things might start to be alright.

21 – End

TMWolf:And there we go! Huge reunion chapter and basically lots of crying and lovey-dovey stuff. It's not too long, though, and more to get through the next part. We're going to be having some bigger time skips, as no one dies for another year apparently lol It's the downhill run, though, and in just a few years the Borgia will be ruined!

For now, though... happy times ;)